


Ghost, Ghost, I Know You Live Within Me -- Companion

by theherocomplex



Series: Commander Eliza Shepard [13]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Companion Piece, F/M, Romance, explicit content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 03:53:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theherocomplex/pseuds/theherocomplex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A safe repository for the explicit content from Ghost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 11 Companion

**Author's Note:**

> I have moved the explicit content from the main story to here, so people who want to skip it can do so and not miss any plot-y things. Hurrah! 
> 
> Onward!

After trying to sleep and failing, Garrus limped downstairs and forced himself to eat. His stomach griped at him, but after a few moments of gripping the edge of the counter and trying not to think about what vomiting would do to his wounds, he kept the food down.

The base was silent. Garrus found Shepard at the foot of the bridge.

“Do you need me to change your bandages?” she asked, keeping her back to him and her voice neutral.

“No.”

“Ah.” She was quiet for a long time. Neither of them looked at the other.

“Maybe it was a mistake to come back. Or to come at all. What right did I have to come into your life and try to give you advice on how to live? It was selfish of me. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. It was --” He closed his eyes against the memory of the first two months after Alchera. “It was an empty galaxy without you.”

“Maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. You can’t say what we have is healthy. My whole idea of home is wrapped up in you, and I...” She finally looked at him. “You can’t really live or learn with me around. What if you’re not the leader you should be because I’m hanging around and throwing off some balance?”

“I’m alive because you saved me.”

“What if that’s all I was supposed to do? Save you, and move on?”

“No. If you’re trying to say this last year was a mistake -- no. Twelve people are alive because of you. Not to mention everyone we’ve been able to help.” He cupped her chin, careful with his talons. “You were right. They’re my responsibility. I gave them this mission. It’s on me if they fail.” He let go of her chin and ran his fingers through her hair. She leaned up into his touch.  “I’m ready to listen now.”

“To what?”

“Whatever you have to say. Come home.” He turned around and went back into the base.

She was waiting for him when he limped up to his room. Garrus tried to read forgiveness in her posture, but Shepard, if she had any tells to begin with, wasn’t telegraphing them now.

“What I said, how I said it...”

“You meant all of it, Shepard. Don’t try to go back on it now.”

“I did. And I’m so mad at you I could make what you’ve got under those bandages look like rug burn. That’s not what matters. You’re alive. I’m here. We can fight about this forever, or --”

“Or I can finally listen to you, and figure out how to run my squad the right way.”

Shepard gave him a tiny, hard-won smile. “It couldn’t hurt. I do have some experience, you know.”

“So you’re what, my spiritual advisor?”

“...that is a _terrible_ pun, Garrus.”

“I’m just surprised it took me this long to use it. And it did the job. You’re not angry anymore.”

She huffed. “Don’t push your luck. Now get into bed, I want to check your bandages.”

***

Garrus fell asleep almost right away, soothed by Shepard’s hands on his chest. The last thing he felt as he drifted off was her kiss, cool and clean, like the first autumn chill.

***

While he slept, Shepard’s chest ached, and throbbed once, like her heart was trying to remember how to beat.

She stayed very still. It didn’t happen again.

***

When he woke up, there was music playing.

“Good morning, starshine. The Earth says hello.” Shepard spun in his chair. He flexed his mandibles. The greeting was...affectionate. Comfortable. _Human_. He tucked it away for later.

She put the datapad she was reading on the top of the stack. “How’d you sleep?”

“Too well. My body will think it deserves this much if you let me keep it up.” He stretched experimentally and felt his plates flex against the bandages. He groaned when a muscle in his back knotted. Healing was going to take time, even with the medi-gel and plenty of rest, and he’d forgotten the toll the fight with Garm had taken on the rest of his body. His leg tingled; Shepard had reapplied the medi-gel there too.  

“I’d wake you if there was anything interesting.” She cocked her head at the comm. “Even the mercs are taking a break now that they think Archangel’s dead. Checked all the channels and no one’s planning anything.”

“Maybe they changed channels.”

“No one has any reason to now their number one enemy is gone. Feel like eating?”

Garrus sat up. The muscle in his back twinged again, but he couldn’t reach it.

“Something bugging you?” Shepard sat down next to him. She eased a hand under his shirt. “Let me guess -- right here?”

He sighed. “It’s scary how you just know. Convenient, though.”

Shepard dug her knuckles into the seam between his plates. The ache flared into real pain. He hissed in a breath and forced himself to stay relaxed as Shepard worked into the muscle. The knot loosened and cool relief spread across his back.

“Better?”

“Much.”

She hummed, a habit she had picked up from him that put warmth in his gut whenever she did it. The music kept playing.

“What are you listening to?”

“Just some random channel. Someone’s listening to love songs down by the loading docks.”  

“This is a love song? Sounds like a lullaby.”

Shepard pushed him back down on the bed. “Maybe to a turian, but this version of the song was _huge_ back on Earth just before I joined the N7 program. Every guy I knew used it to try and get lucky. More than two hundred years old, and it's still popular.” She stretched out next to him and hummed along.

Garrus yawned. He should be getting up, getting dressed, but he couldn’t seem to make himself move.

“All right, time for all vigilantes to wake up, even the injured ones. It’s past 0900.” Shepard stroked his neck. He opened one eye.

“That’s counter-productive if you want me out of bed,” he grumbled. She brushed her hand over his waist, just enough pressure to make his eyes close.

“When did I ever say I wanted you out of bed? Pretty big assumption to make. You’re still convalescing, after all.” She pulled herself up to straddle his waist. “I think we should take advantage of the quiet,” she said, her voice as close to a purr as a human could get.

Somewhere in the next few minutes, Shepard’s shirt migrated to the floor, followed by Garrus’. She ran her nails over the surface of his carapace, idle little circles and whorls. Neither of them wanted to hurry.

“How are you healing? I did what I could with medi-gel, but I have no idea if this is what you’re supposed to look like.” She traced the raw, purpled end of one wound where it escaped the bandage.

“You can relax, Shepard. I’m healing fine.” He hissed when her fingers came too close. “Careful. Having these reopen would be a damper on the festivities.” The painkillers had worn off and his chest throbbed. He wanted to move, to _touch_ , but even lifting his arms sent waves of fire over his carapace.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He plucked at the strap of her bra. “Can you --”

“What? Can’t handle a bra clasp?”

“Not without omni-gel,” he said, and nipped at her neck. “Please, I want to see you.”

“Limited mobility’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

“Shepard.”

Something in his voice made her shiver and she reached around her back. Her hands twisted, but she didn’t pull her bra away. Instead, she cocked her head and smiled a very familiar smile down at him.

“Oh no, I know that look, nothing good ever comes from that look.”

“That hurts, Garrus.” She slid the straps of her bra down her arms, but kept her breasts covered. “I was _planning_ to be generous.”

“How generous?” he asked as he traced her ribs with a talon. Her waist was firm under his hands.

“I was _going_ to let you stare at all my soft, helpless human bits and make whatever smartass comments you wanted before I showed you why soft, helpless bits are so attractive. But I think I’ll skip right to the demonstration.”

“Demonstration -- aah, Shepard, careful, I can’t move that easily.”

She looked up from where she was undoing the clasps on his trousers. “You’re not going to be moving at all, Garrus. I just need a little room.”

“Room for what? I thought this was supposed to be a punishment.” 

Shepard arched an eyebrow, and the smile slipped across her mouth again. “You’ll see.” She finished with the clasps on his trousers and moved on to her own clothes. She tossed her bra to the side, but before he had more than a glimpse of her breasts, she was undoing the buttons on her pants.

“Shepard?”

She didn’t answer, and her hair almost hid her smirk. He brushed it out of her face and behind her ears, the gesture already achingly familiar. She tugged her pants down over her hips and off, to join her bra, shirt, and boots on the floor. After a pause, she rolled her shoulders back and stretched. When he opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say, but knowing he should say _something_ , she pressed a finger to his mouth, still smirking.

“Not a word. Got it?” He nodded, shifting to accommodate his plates as they began to spread. Shepard glanced down and lost the battle with her smirk, which turned into a smug grin.

“I’ve heard that it takes a lot of coaxing to get a turian male ready,” she said, and let her finger fall from his mouth to his waist. “But the best way to start is...” She traced the seam of his sheath lightly, just enough pressure for a shiver to run through him. “Like this.”

Every other time he’d gotten off on Omega, it had been perfunctory -- one more ritual to get out of the way before he moved on to more important things. Quiet, quick sessions in the shower, or when he couldn’t sleep and Shepard was gone. He’d been taking care of physical requirements, nothing more.

Now her hands were on either side of his sheath, pressing, massaging -- separated from his cock by a thin layer of skin. He groaned when she ran her finger along the seam again, harder, but not entering him.

Shepard slid down on the bed to stretch out on her belly between his legs. Her head was level with his crotch, and he was going to warn her about how quickly he’d slip out if she kept going when she dipped her head and followed the path of her finger with her tongue.

Her mouth was hot, wet, and slick -- the last part of her that still, against all reason, felt alive. He jerked up against her and gasped when a bolt of agony shot across his chest.

“Stay still, Garrus.”

He laughed breathlessly as the pain faded. “I knew humans did this,” he panted. His cock would have slipped free if her hands weren’t still on his sheath. “But I didn’t -- stop smiling, Shepard.”

“If this is good,” she said, licking the seam again, “you have no idea what’s coming.” He moaned when the probing tip of her tongue pressed into him, a flicker of pressure.

“Should I hold you down?” Shepard used the broad flat of her tongue to bathe the seam. His head rolled back against the wall. He felt dizzy. “Or can you behave?”

“Behave? I can barely think.” She hummed, pleased, and kneaded the skin on either side of his sheath while she teased him with quick, light sweeps of her tongue. When he tried to thrust again, she pushed his hips down and held him there. Her hands kept him sheathed.

“Understand why I’m not being generous now? I bet you’re just dying to find out what my mouth will feel like, but you have to wait.”

Garrus gaped at her, his legs straining as he tried to thrust, but Shepard held him still.

“Hold still,” she said, and she pressed her mouth back to the seam and sucked.

His concentration went the way of his self-control as the pleasure crashed into him. A few moments later, he opened his eyes, panting, and brushed the hair out of Shepard’s eyes with a shaking hand. She met his eyes and grinned, too smug.

“Doing all right, Garrus?” She licked her lips and hummed, still grinning. “Or is it too much?”

He heard the challenge. Careful of his wounds, he braced his feet against the bed and flexed his mandibles at her. _Think of the game._

“Not even close,” he said, and gasped when her hands slid back to his sheath, stroking along his hidden length. When she finally let him, he was going to come like a teenager.

It took all his focus to stay still and not beg her to let his cock out. He had wondered if Shepard’s cool hands would take away any of the pleasure in her touch, but if anything, it made everything more intense.

When she gave him one final sweep of her tongue and pulled away, he was boneless and hazy, hovering just below the point of no return. He had no idea how long she had kept him at that level, teasing every last sensation out of his nerves until he could feel them buzzing under his skin. He let his head roll forward and opened his eyes just in time to watch Shepard pull her hands back. His cock slid free, heavy, already slick, and hard enough to make him dizzy.

“ _Oh_ ,” Shepard sighed. She didn’t seem to know where to look. Her eyes moved back and forth from his face to his cock, a completely new expression on her face. Garrus stored it away for later. When was he ever going to see hunger, bright avid hunger, on Shepard’s face again?

She traced the line of bumps running up his shaft to the sharp, pointed head. He jerked away, her touch sending bolts of heat straight to the base of his skull.

“Too much?” she asked. “Is this a no-go area?”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just... been a while. Go slow, or I’ll...” He let the sentence fade away when she wrapped her hand around his cock and stroked the nodes with the pad of her thumb. His back stiffened as he pushed into her loose fist.

“Good?”

He couldn’t do more than nod. She tightened her grip a fraction, just enough friction for the first low thrum to start at the base of his cock.

“Ah -- ah, yes, that’s good, aaaah --” He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. She edged him toward his orgasm, pausing when he came too close, only to stroke him harder and faster when she started again.

He could hear himself talking, complete nonsense with the word please in the middle, but the ringing in his ears drowned him out. He had to come, he needed to come, and now.  

“Shepard, please, please -- _aaah!_ ” The first spasm started. Before his orgasm could crash through him, Shepard’s hand slid to the base of his cock and squeezed, almost tight enough to hurt.

He was caught, right at the edge, trapped by the cool weight of her hand.

“No, no, don’t, I’m so close, _please_ \--” Garrus had never begged in his life, not once, but he was ready to start. “I -- I need --”

“No idea what they do, but I think these would feel amazing inside me,” said Shepard lightly. She kept her hand tight at the base of his cock, and licked up the line of nodes. Garrus choked out a breathy scream; his larynxes seemed to have disappeared. Every nerve below his waist felt like it was warming after a long chill, tingling and over-sensitive. If she’d just let go, if she’d just let _him_ go --

Shepard licked her lips. “I wonder if you taste sweet,” she mused. "Or salty."

“Shepard, I don’t care what you do, just do _something_.”

“Makes me wonder if you would be sweet all over,” she murmured and held his gaze as she bent her head down, the pink point of her tongue just visible beyond her lips. He knew what she was going to do. He just couldn’t believe she was choosing now to do it.

“No, I can’t, it’s too much, _please_.”

She stopped just before her tongue touched his cock.

“Is it too much?” she asked. “Tell me.”

She was completely serious. If he was sure, she’d stop her teasing and let him come. And it would be good, but it wouldn’t be this. She wanted him to trust her as much with this as he did with everything else.

Garrus took as deep a breath as he could and shook his head. “It’s fine,” he gasped. “I’m fine. Just --” He couldn’t finish.

Shepard stroked his thigh with her free hand. “I’ve got you,” she said. “You know I do.”

He nodded and forced himself to hold her gaze. She grinned up at him, sweet enough to sting, and let him watch when she closed her lips around the swollen head of his cock.

Her mouth was hot, all smooth, plush curves with hints of blunt teeth. She kept her eyes on his as she swallowed him down, until her lips met her hand. Her tongue played havoc with his over-stimulated nerve endings; he was shaking and couldn’t stop. His legs strained, trying to pull back and get closer in the same movement, until even the touch of her hand on his leg was too heavy. The tip of his cock hit the back of her throat. He twisted his hands in the sheet, trying to stay still when she swallowed against his cock and everything was tight, wet heat around him.

Whenever he looked down, Shepard’s eyes were on him, her cheeks hollowing as she moved up and down the curve of his shaft. Every inch of his cock was swollen, held just below release, with the hot pressure of her mouth tightening his nerves until all he could do was shiver.

She could hold him on the brink for hours, until the weight of her tongue was agony, but he had never felt so light, so clear-headed. If her hands and mouth felt like this, what would being inside her feel like?

When he started to whine and pant, fucking into her mouth as much as he could with her hand still holding him to the bed, she moaned around him. He cried out, clutching at the air as the vibrations moved along the length of his cock. Shepard writhed on the bed, her hips grinding down against the mattress, searching for friction of her own. That was what ended it for Garrus; seeing Shepard almost as needy as he was pushed his arousal from urgent to desparate. He grabbed handfuls of her hair and tugged as gently as he could.

“Shepard -- _Shepard_ \-- I --”

She moaned again as she pulled off, a line of fluid connecting her lips to the head of his cock. Her eyes were dark, the rings of her irises almost hidden by her pupils.

“Ready?” she asked, low and secret. He couldn’t nod, couldn’t speak, only thrust his hips against her hand, begging silently. She smiled and let go.

He screamed when the pressure disappeared and his orgasm hit him, sharp and violent and so sudden it was almost painful. She stroked him almost languidly, milking him through each spasm until her hand was too much for his skin and he pulled away, whining.

For a long time, he let his head loll on the pillows and just breathed. His heart took a while to return to anything like a normal rhythm. When he opened his eyes, Shepard was curled between his legs, her head on his thigh, a hand idly stroking her breasts. She was covered in his come, from chin to belly.

“Oh, Shepard, I’m sorry.” She blinked up at him before laughing.

“What? You think I mind a little mess?” He shivered at the dark warmth in her voice, in the slight rough edge in her words. The rough edge he had put there, unintentionally. Shepard pushed up onto her knees and stretched.

“So. More impressed by humans than you were this time yesterday?”

He gave her an exhausted laugh and let his head fall forward until their foreheads touched. He could smell himself on her, warm and bland and clean.

“Kiss me,” he said. Shepard hesitated.

“Let me just clean up first.” When she tried to pull away, he tugged her back.

“I don’t mind messes either,” he said. She started to laugh, and he kissed away the sound before she could protest.

***

Five minutes later, he was asleep.

“Typical male,” Shepard groused when he woke up, already feeling guilty. “Typical.”

“It’s not like I could help it,” he protested sleepily. “And it’s all your fault.”

“Blaming the woman. Also typical.” But she looked pleased with herself again. While he slept, she’d cleaned herself off and pulled on her shirt. She laid down next to him.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Surprisingly good, considering. Another few days, and I’ll be as good as new.” He gave her a sly look and a purr. “Though I have a whole new set of reasons to stay in bed now.” She laughed and wriggled closer.

“Oh yeah? Good to know my skills made an impression.”

“About that. Do you want me to...?” He gestured at her body and she slapped his hand away.

“Time’s passed. And don’t start apologizing. I’ll be reliving the look on your face when I finally let you come for... well, forever. Better than an orgasm.”

He sighed. “So now what? I’m awake and completely at your mercy.”

Shepard pressed closer. “This is fine. Just being quiet, here with you. Unless there’s something else you’d rather be doing.”

“Not a chance. This is good.”

Shepard hummed happily, her throat vibrating against his carapace. “It is.”

 


	2. Chapter 14 Companion

Shepard stayed silent the entire way back, her face etched in stony lines that kept Garrus quiet too.

 _She doesn’t feel things the way I do_ , he thought after the second time he tried to start a sentence and she wouldn’t look at him. 

Still.

He put a hand on her back; not a reproach, just steady reassurance. Shepard tensed but when he stayed quiet, she relaxed and gave him a rueful half-smile. 

 _You’re not off the hook, Shepard. We_ will _talk about this._

Shepard slung an arm around his carapace and pulled herself closer. In what seemed less like coincidence and more like happy telepathy, she had a response for exactly what he was thinking. 

“I know you want to talk about this, Garrus, but I don’t. Not yet.” She kept her eyes on the alley ahead of them. “I’m fine, but let’s just get home.”

Garrus nodded. Shepard’s arm slipped lower to rest around his waist. She may not have been trying to distract him, but now all he could think about was how quickly they could get back to base.

Two days was a long time to wait.

***

Shepard disappeared as soon as they passed into the base. Garrus knew she was waiting for him up in their room, impatient to talk about the mission and to invade his personal space as she checked him for wounds. He kept the debrief with the squad as short as possible before he assigned guard duty and sent the rest to the showers. No one questioned the early dismissal; exhaustion hit them hard once the battle-spell dropped away, even for the squadmates who hadn’t gone on this mission.

Garrus took the stairs two at a time.

Shepard had her back to him, arranging his datapads into new stacks. He heard her impatient huff as he opened his armor case and ducked his head to hide the wide flare of his grin.

“Butler actually scared me a little today. I knew he had the Berserker gene mods -- at least, I hope he did. If he was born that way, you should be terrified of him. Either way, maybe we should have started his dry spell a little earlier.”

Garrus made a noncommittal noise as he unclasped his armor and shrugged it off. The relief hit him in a solid wave and left him so dizzy he had to lean against the wall before he could straighten up. He glanced over his shoulder at Shepard. She drummed her fingers on the desk and set the last datapad to the side.

“You’re awful quiet, Garrus. Don’t want to talk through the mission?”

“Not particularly,” he said.

Shepard half-turned. “Did you have something else in mind?”

“You could say that,” Garrus answered. He snapped his armor case shut and turned to face Shepard.

When their eyes met, the air went electric; every angle sharpened and even the light overhead felt brighter. Shepard leaned her hip on the desk and folded her arms across her chest.

As he walked toward her, Shepard smiled and looked away. He lifted her head with his thumb beneath her lip and pressed his forehead to hers, parsing the welter of his feelings: dregs of adrenalin, fury at Tarak, affection for the squad, exhaustion, worry, and in the center, the hot well of everything he felt for Shepard.

She stayed still as he traced her face with his fingers and eyes. It occurred to him that Shepard was never still without a reason; she could stand motionless for hours if the mission called for it, but given a choice, she would never stop moving. No one else had ever been given so much of her time or peace.

The base was quiet, the squad had relaxed its watch over him, and Shepard was only inches away.

“You’re making that noise again.”

He hummed and pushed closer.

“I think I’ve been very stupid.”

Garrus opened his eyes. Shepard’s irises were thin jeweled rings around wide pupils. “Stupid? You?”

She linked her fingers behind his neck. “Yeah. Here I am, worrying you haven’t said... _it_ back. You’ve been saying it the whole time, haven’t you?”

Garrus kept his forehead pressed to hers as he nodded.

“Yeah, pretty stupid. Got a lot to learn.” She laughed again, the sound coming out skewed and a little sad. “Good thing I’ve got so much time, right?”

 _If she stays still, she thinks too much_ , Garrus realized. _That’s why she doesn’t let herself stop. The least I can do is try to make her stop thinking._

For that, speaking wouldn’t be necessary.

He nuzzled into the curve of her neck and let his hands slide over her bare forearms. Her skin might have been rough by human standards, even with the last of her scars gone, but she felt silky under his palms.

“You’re so soft,” Garrus murmured into her throat. The skin under his mouth jumped and Shepard laughed, a throaty sound he had never heard before.

“Soft everywhere,” she said. Her hands dipped into his cowl, tracing whorls along the inner edge that he could barely feel through his undersuit. His first instinct was to pull away and undress, but it seemed like he had finally learned the value of patience. Why not delay a little while? Why not let the anticipation build, and give them time to play?

It was their first time, after all.

Shepard cupped his face in her hands and lifted his forehead to hers. He felt the subtle shift in posture that meant she was stretched on tiptoes to avoid making him bend down. Her fingers skated under his jaw to the vulnerable skin underneath, and he shivered in response.

“It’s all a mess,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Everything except you, Garrus. You always had my six.”

“Always will,” Garrus answered, and kissed her. When he tried to catch his breath, she gave him a handful of seconds before she pulled him back, hungry and open. If he was reading her right -- and he knew he was, he was _fluent_ in Shepard now -- she wanted to get things moving, to push forward to the bed and the inevitable pleasure.

So fierce, so impatient. It was a lucky thing Shepard wasn’t a star; any planets in her orbit would have been consumed millenia ago as she flared and burned herself out.

He cut off that line of thought before it could go any farther. Neither of them liked to talk -- or think -- about fire.

When he had to pull back from the kiss to catch his breath, she was smiling. It was a variation on the expression he had never seen before on her face. Shepard’s smiles tended toward one extreme or the other: needle-sharp or exhausted. This smile was subdued, just a slight curve to her lips, no teeth, and it was just for him.

Shepard held onto his shoulders for balance as she toed out of her boots and settled back against the desk. She didn’t pause before pulling him back down for another kiss, her hands fisting in the fabric of his undersuit.

“Take this off,” she whispered, even though there was no reason for her to be quiet. “Please.” She let go long enough to let Garrus flick the clasps open, then she tugged the shirt off and threw it aside. Her fingers slid over the scars on his carapace. He had the impression she was memorizing them.

“Hey,” he said. “Eyes up here.” He tried to keep his voice light, but the telltale subvocal unrolled itself under his words and coiled between them 

She tilted her head up and kissed him, almost chastely. “Sometimes I just want to watch you for hours,” she said shyly. “I could, you know.”

“You did, the first night we were here.”

Shepard nodded. “I want to do it again. You’re so different when you’re asleep. It’s like you’re not just relaxed, but peaceful.” She met his eyes, a brief flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. “Is that weird? I think I’ve got the boundaries worked out, but I can’t tell.” 

Garrus tried not to laugh. “You think we still _have_ boundaries?”

Shepard gave him her new smile again. “My mistake.”

Talking about boundaries reminded Garrus that Shepard was far too clothed. He tugged the hem of her shirt out of her pants. Shepard lifted her arms obediently to let him pull her shirt off, but he stopped her before she could take off her bra.

“Garrus?”

“This thing is a waste of time and resources.” He hooked his thumbs under the band and pulled it off.

“Careful, that’s my only --” She threw her head back as he licked a stripe down her neck and between her breasts. He curled his tongue around the silken underside of her breast, his hand  keeping her steady when she went limp against him.

“If you keep that up, I’m going to need to lay down,” Shepard said, with another throaty attempt at a laugh. Garrus responded by turning her around and spreading his hands over her shoulder blades.

Shepard’s back was a marvel; taut, smooth skin stretched over fine bones. When she stretched her arms, the rope of her spine became a line of peaks and valleys. He followed the line with a fingertip, already warm and hard inside his sheath. An angry red scar had once bisected the back of her neck and hidden the knob at the top of her spine. Now the skin was whole, the bone below sharp and vulnerable. Garrus pressed his free hand over his groin and tried not to groan.

“Leave it to a turian to come up with a bone kink,” said Shepard. She arched her back, shading her ribs as light moved over her skin. Garrus moaned and sent the tip of his tongue skating down her back. He caught her wrists when she reached back to him, squeezing to feel the bones.

Shepard cleared her throat. Garrus looked up to see her watching him over her shoulder, her face half-hidden by her hair.

“You don’t have to hold back.”

Garrus watched her face. “You’ll feel it,” he said.

“It’s fine. It’s all fine.”

Distantly, it occurred to him they both were crazy, dead or alive.

 _Fair trade_ , he thought, and tightened his fists. Shepard shuddered, stilling only when he put a hand on the small of her back.

He stood up, bracketing her ribcage with his hands, and tried to ignore how his legs were shaking. Shepard rolled her shoulders back and turned her head to look at him.

“ _Costae_ ,” she said. When Garrus just blinked at her, she grinned, sly and sideways. “It’s Latin for ‘ribs’.”

Humans and their languages -- the words should have been dust in her mouth, but the low, inviting way she said them could have revived every dead tongue on Earth.

He moved his hands to cover her shoulder blades again. When Shepard rolled her shoulders, the points of bone pressed into his palms. His cock pulsed, trapped in its sheath.

“And these?”

“ _Scapula_.”

She turned around and leaned back with one hand on the waistband of her pants. With her other hand, she took his and led his fingers along her collarbone. “ _Clavicle_ ,” she said, her voice low. Garrus groaned when she curled his hand over the ball of her shoulder. “.. _.umerus humerus_.”

“Shepard...” he said, leaning forward until his carapace was flush against her chest. He put one hand on the desk for balance and cupped her breast with the other. Shepard sighed and closed her eyes.

“The adult human body has over two hundred bones. It doesn’t look like it, but we’ve got sharp edges too. And I can name them all.” Her mouth slid along his mandible, the tip of her tongue dipping under his jaw. “Do you want me to?”

“Two hundred?”

“Mhm.” She flicked the buttons on her pants open lazily, looking up at him through her lashes. “ _Cranium, ulna, femur --_ ”

“This kink is all your fault,” he groaned. Her hand slipped between them and stroked him through his trousers. He shivered, wondering if she was planning on teasing him again, and almost fell against her when he felt her fingers plucking at his clasps.

He waited until she huffed in frustration and batted her hands away. Shepard glared at him.

“Don’t you dare laugh, Garrus.”

“This is payback,” he said. “You laughed at me.”

Shepard rolled her eyes. “In my defense, it _was_ hilarious. And --”

“Shepard.”

She met his gaze, lips parted. Garrus knew she’d heard the new note in his voice, the one that spelled pure desire. He leaned in until his mouth almost touched hers.

“You’re talking too much,” he told her. She blinked, then gave him the smile again before she kissed him.

Somewhere in the middle of the kiss, his hands found her breasts. Shepard made a tight little noise high in her throat, scratching at his carapace. Her nails were too blunt and soft to do any damage, but the gesture gave him a glow of satisfaction. He caught her nipples between his first fingers and thumbs, and Shepard’s whole body went still against his.

 _A-ha_ , he thought, not even trying to hide the flare of his mandibles. _Got you, Shepard._

He swept his tongue along her lower lip and pinched. Shepard writhed, the motion growing as he kept pinching, kissing her almost lazily as she started to whine. When he let go and smoothed his hands over her breasts, Shepard’s knees gave out for a brief second. He put an arm around her waist to steady her and eased her down until her back was flat on the surface of his desk. Her hips hung off the edge; it was easy to pull off her pants, but he left her underwear on. For the moment.

Shepard put a hand on his mandible and stroked her thumb over the stripe, following it over his nose and down to the tip of his other mandible. He purred at the touch and raked his talons over her waist. After a moment’s hesitation, he traced the invisible curve where, not too long ago, there had been a scar.

A movement at the corner of his eye distracted him. Shepard had a hand on her breast, stroking and pulling at the nipple. Garrus growled and brushed her hand away. Shepard lifted her head, a protest already forming before he covered her breast with his own hand and curled his tongue around her nipple.

The last -- and only -- time he’d done this, they’d been interrupted. He may not have all the time he wanted now, but he would make the best of it.

Shepard cried out when he caught her nipple between the plates of his mouth and pulled it into a peak. When she started to claw at the desk, eyes half-closed, he let go and watched as her breast bounced back, the soft flesh trembling.

He paused long enough to shove his trousers down to his ankles and step out of them. Shepard’s gaze roved over him greedily as soon as he was naked, with enough heat to make his cock slide free from sheath and plates. A long, shuddering sigh tumbled out of her and she reached for him, spreading her legs to make room.

Garrus pressed against her, one layer separating them. The heat between her legs surprised him for a moment before desire took over and he leaned down, moaning, to kiss her. Shepard inched lower on the table and wrapped her thighs around his waist, trapping him against her.

He nipped the curve of her shoulder and bathed the skin with his tongue. When he looked at the place he’d bitten, there was nothing, not even a faint flush, to mark that he had touched her. If she had been alive, the skin would have been red and warm. Regret pierced him, fierce and sudden, gone before he felt more than a needle-prick.

Shepard touched his face; from her expression, he knew she’d heard the change in his subvocals. Her smile was sad and tired, a silent apology. He pressed his forehead to hers and stayed there for a long time.

She stayed still as long as she could, then she started to wriggle.

“If you’re losing interest,” she said, her tone a perfect blend of sarcasm and teasing, “you just had to say so.”

He pulled back and held himself up with a hand on either side of her head. “It’s not that,” he answered. That much was true; he was still hard. He shifted position and Shepard bit her lip when the heavy length of his cock rubbed against her cunt. “It’s just --”

“Garrus.” She squeezed her legs around him. The smooth skin on her inner thighs slipped over his bare waist like silk. 

He groaned, his cock twitching, and Shepard pulled him closer. The friction, which had been delicious before, started to erode his concentration. She kissed and sucked a line from his mandible and down into his cowl, and the memory of what her mouth could do left him panting.

She leaned back on the desk and stretched her arms over her head, nearly dislodging a pile of datapads. _I’m never going to be able to read those or work at this desk again,_ he thought as he bent down to tease her nipples with his tongue. It only took a few moments before Shepard started writhing, her cries getting louder and more desperate. Her thighs tightened in little spasms as she ground into him for friction.

Without any experience, he only had his best guess to tell him when to stop. He pulled away, with one last sweep of his tongue, and watched as Shepard’s eyes fluttered open.

“What -- _oh_.”  He lifted her easily and carried her to the bed, trying not to trip over the piles of loose clothing. Shepard sat up as soon as he set her down, reaching for his cock. It was a wrench, but he evaded her and moved to the foot of the bed, where he crouched between her legs.

It was time to get rid of the last of her ridiculous undergarments. Garrus tugged her underwear down, Shepard lifting her hips to help. He tossed them to the side, and turned back to watch as Shepard let her legs fall open.

Then, he just stared.

Shepard laughed, a little nervously. The sound was strange coming from her, a woman who had so rarely been nervous when she was alive. She started to close her legs, a hand covering her cunt, but Garrus stopped her with a hand on either thigh.

“Let me look.”

She bit her lip again and nodded. Her eyes closed as she lifted her arms above her head and waited.

There had been scars on her legs, just under his hands. Garrus had glimpsed them as they stripped after missions, and they slid across her skin in his mind. The old burns, healed to silver; a set of parallel gouges that ran from knee to ankle; the faint dimples of what might have been teeth marks. The scars had been his old friends. Garrus pushed them out of his mind and put his hands on her hips.

“And these?”

“Uh.. _.os coxae_ , I think.” She licked her lips. Her eyes stayed closed. He let his hands slide a little lower, and her voice melted into a sigh. Slowly, he rubbed a thumb over the coarse hairs clustered between her legs. Shepard’s hips jerked once before she settled back into the mattress.

“Thank God no one can hear me,” she said, her voice gone husky.

Garrus had to agree. He crouched over her, balancing on one elbow, and waited until Shepard was completely relaxed before he pressed the pad of his thumb to the opening of her cunt.

Her eyes flew open as soon as she felt the pressure, but she stayed still. It cost her -- he could read it in the minute shiver in her thigh muscles -- but she was going to make him work for a stronger reaction.

 _That’s my girl, always a challenge,_ he thought with a wry inward grin that turned into a groan. His cock ached. The only way he could get any friction would be to lay down and grind his cock into the sheets, but doing that meant he would lose the ideal angle to torment Shepard.

There was a way to compromise.

He crawled forward until his head was level with hers. Shepard met his eyes fearlessly, but her throat worked like she was trying to hold back a moan. Garrus held himself up with one arm and held his cock by the base. He allowed himself one cautious stroke, enough to take the edge off, but the urge to keep going spiked when Shepard slid her hands down around his neck. She wasn’t pulling her punches; she went right for the most sensitive spot, in between the rills of his fringe.

“Aah, dammit,” he groaned. He started to stroke his cock, slowly, resisting giving himself the twist Shepard had used to such devastating effect.

She craned her neck to watch. He nipped at her chin, growling to get her attention back. Shepard just grinned.

Garrus growled again, all hints of teasing gone, and bent his knees slightly. If Shepard wanted something to watch, he’d give her a show.

The tip of his cock grazed the cleft between her legs. Shepard startled, eyes flying wide, and he watched the shift in her expression with something like glee.

“Yes,” she sighed, and lifted her hips, legs spread wide. It would have been so easy to slip inside her. Easy was not what he wanted. He wanted Shepard.

He teased her cunt with the tip of his cock, withdrawing when she started to gasp, pressing when she fell back with a whimper. She shrieked as his cock brushed her clitoris and clawed at his arms, her fingernails scrabbling over his plates. He circled her clitoris, alternating pressure with no contact until her head thrashed on the pillow, eyes half-shut. There was a flash of white at her hand as Shepard bit her fingers to stay quiet.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he gasped. His control was running out. “Come on, I want to hear you. Tell me what you want.”

Shepard made a weak noise around her fingers.

Garrus lowered his head. “Tell me,” he purred, trying not to moan.

“You,” said Shepard. “You, inside me. Oh, God, please.”

He finally let himself groan, and propped himself up on both hands. “Ready?”

She nodded.

Garrus took a deep breath, held it, and thrust. His cock might as well have been nothing more than nerve endings; he felt every fold inside Shepard’s cunt, even the tiny rough patch that made her squeal when he thrust against it.

“Garrus,” she choked out. “Garrus, stop, please.”

He stopped, reluctantly, and let his forehead fall on hers. “Was I doing something wrong?”

“What? Oh, God. No, no. I don’t want to come yet, that’s all. And that position can’t be comfortable for you. Here.” She nudged him away gently, wincing as they separated, and pushed him up against the wall. “Now, just stay still...” With her easy grace, she swung her leg over his hips and lowered herself until her cunt hovered just over his cock. She tilted her head, one eyebrow arching. “You like?”

“I like,” he said roughly. She laughed and kissed him, her throat vibrating with a low hum.

He loved her so much it twisted in his heart, like a knot he would never loosen. _Whatever happens_ , he thought, _I’m marked. I’m hers till I die. Till death and onward._

She sank onto him slowly, the hum still in her throat. When she lifted her eyes to his, there was nothing left to say. The months fighting Saren, the slow growth of trust, the quiet weeks of dancing around each other, the first kiss, the oil and sand -- everything had led them here. And Shepard was just as marked as he was.

Finally, someone to be crazy with. He thrust, Shepard cried out, and they were lost. Pleasure shared is pleasured doubled, after all.

He let Shepard set the pace. She fell forward against her as her hips rolled and wrapped her arms around his cowl, her face against his neck. Her muffled moans sounded like sobs. Garrus did his best to steady her with his hands on her back and neck, but when she drove down, burying him to the hilt in her cunt, it was all he could do to stay silent.

Her orgasm broke against his cock like tiny waves that grew as they flooded her body. By the time they reached her arms and legs, she twitched and whined, pulling him closer until the spasms faded. Even after she went limp against him, she kept rolling her hips, easing him toward his own climax with light clenches that left him gasping.

“Shepard --” He lifted her chin until their eyes met. She shivered as he cupped her head in his hands and pressed his mouth to her ear.

What he had to say was lost when the last aftershock rippled through her cunt. He came, the pleasure silencing him except for a persistent hum deep in his chest. Shepard held him tight as he rocked, the hum giving way to a keen. Shepard covered his mouth with hers, drinking in his noises as he shuddered inside her.

“Not fair,” he panted a moment later. She pulled him against her, kissing his neck. “You could make all the noise you wanted.”

“You don’t sound all that upset,” she murmured.

“I’m not, but I’d like to be able to yell if I need to.”

“Noted,” said Shepard. She stretched her arms over her head. “Are you going to make this part of the post-mission debriefing? Because I fully support that endeavor.”

“I’ll consider it.” He brushed her hair out of her face. When he felt steady enough, he eased them down on their sides, still twined around each other. Shepard murmured something as he dozed, sated and happy. He caught a few words before sleep claimed him, Shepard’s arms around him, her voice in his ears.


	3. Chapter 18 Companion

Garrus’ headache burst into full, ferocious life when they got back to the base. Too many bright lights, too many voices clamoring for news.

“Enough,” he growled as soon as his helmet was off. Weaver scooped it out of his hands and retreated to her workbench, already focused on upgrades. “Unless someone wants to explain why Butler never bothered to mention his mods were out of date, get back to work.”

The squad scattered, except for Sidonis. He hovered behind Garrus, the faint sour smell of his worry cutting through the pain in his head.

“Was it that bad?” he asked. “Butler’ll be okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Garrus answered. “We were close to Nalah’s old clinic, so I left him with her boss.”

“The salarian? Spirits, he’s crazy, isn’t he?”

 _Among other things._ “He might be crazy, but he’s solid. Butler’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah, thanks. I just wanted to know. Thanks.” Sidonis shifted. “You okay, boss?”

“I’ll be fine. Grundan and Ripper are patrolling? Where are they?”

“Uh, Diulo District, last time I checked.”

“Tell them to come on home.” Garrus paused as a vicious throb sliced through his head. Shepard slipped her hand into his and let him squeeze her fingers until the pain receded. The sour smell thickened, but Sidonis kept his silence while Garrus steadied himself.

“Once everyone’s in and fed, we’ll start talking strategy.” His armor chafed against his cowl. “I’m going to hit the showers.”

“Got it.” Sidonis moved off, taking the smell of his distress with him, murmuring into his comm.

Garrus rubbed his mandibles. Without his visor or helmet, he felt naked, but the thought of any extra weight made the headache send spikes of heat through his head.

“Shower.” Shepard nudged him gently. Without her arm around his waist, he would have tripped over his own feet before he got to the stairs. He missed the top step and leaned on her briefly, closing his eyes. She held his weight, her free hand gripping his arm. When he was steady enough to go on, she tugged him toward their room.

Her fingers stuttered over the seals and clasps of his armor, but she managed without needing his help. His undersuit gave her more trouble; he heard her swear as she tugged on his tunic.

Finally, his clothes were off. Shepard ran her palms over his carapace. “You go get started,” she whispered. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

He stumbled into the shower, navigating the gloom with a hand on the wall. For once, the water was cool and not slimy. He stood under the stream with his head tilted back, mind a blank. Shepard’s hand on his back made him jump.

“Sorry,” she said. “I can go, if you want.” She already knew his answer, and a moment later, he felt her hands sliding over his cowl. He leaned his head against the wall. Shepard wrapped her arms around his carapace and linked her hands just above his waist.

“Oh,” he gasped as her body pressed against his back. “You’re --”

“I am.” She wriggled closer, all cool, naked skin. “Not a hint, don’t worry. Just feels good.” She rested her head against the back of his cowl and stroked his carapace, her fingers sliding over the fresh-healed scars.

“Should I get the oil?” she asked. Garrus barely heard her over the water.

“Not now. Just...stay with me.”

“Okay.” Shepard nestled closer. “I never want to leave you, you know.”

“I know.” He tilted his face up into the spray. His headache began to recede. Shepard’s hands moved in lazy circles, a low hum in her throat. Garrus breathed slowly and let the stress leave his muscles.

Shepard laughed against his cowl. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Mhm.” He trapped her hands with his and stroked her wrists with his thumbs. “Nowhere I’d rather be.”

“Not sniping mercs from three hundred meters? Not sleeping?”

“Maybe sleeping. But only if you’re there to watch.” He turned around. “No time for that now.”

“Have to present your big plan.” Shepard stepped into the circle of his arms and stretched on tiptoe to kiss him under the jaw. He shivered, almost missing her smirk. Desire sparked in his belly, so fierce it made him dizzy. The air nearly crackled with how badly he wanted her.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, Shepard.”

“Always,” she said, and traced the spot she just kissed with the tip of her tongue.

He placed his feet carefully on the wet tiles and scooped her up. Shepard giggled -- _giggled!_ \-- and kicked her feet.

“I’ve never heard you make that noise before,” he said, all fake amazement. The pretense distracted him from the heat in in his groin.

“Smart ass,” Shepard said, her voice muffled as she licked his neck. He stumbled when she nipped at the skin underneath his mandible.

“A-ha. That’s what you get.”

Garrus managed to get to their bed without incident, and dropped her to the mattress. “You know, if I fall, you go down with me.”

Shepard rolled over to make room as he climbed next to her. “Thought that was obvious.” Her hand slipped past his carapace, over his waist, and stopped just above the plates at his groin.

“Is there time?” she asked. She bit her lip and looked away, but he caught her expression before she hid behind her hair.

“There’s time,” Garrus answered, and kissed her till he was breathless.

***

He couldn’t help shivering as she pressed a finger between his plates to trace the seam of his sheath.

Shepard gave him one of her arch looks. “I’m not going to tease you, don’t worry,” she said. “I need this.”

“Need this?”

She sighed. “What Mordin said...about death being insurmountable. I know it’s stupid, but sometimes I -- sometimes I forget. Watching you work makes me feel like things could be the way they were, back on the Normandy, but then I remember.” She managed to shrug gracefully while lying on her back. “Like I said, it’s stupid.”

“It’s not.” He bent his head to reach the hollow under her ear, to the cluster of soft, golden-down hair, and lavved the skin with the point of his tongue. “I’ll remind you as many times you need. We’re here, together. Shepard and Vakarian.” He spoke into her skin, catching her earlobe with his mouth.  Shepard jerked under him, her hand slipping through his plates as they spread. The cool pressure of her fingers against his sheath overrode any other sensation; his cock slid free, already hard.

He buried his face against her neck. “I want --” he gasped. _Where did this hunger come from?_ he wondered faintly. She swung one leg over his hip and pulled him close, his cock trapped against her thigh.

“Come on then,” she whispered. “Come on.” The same hunger was in Shepard’s voice too. Garrus slid a hand under her back and lifted her, angling her hips so he could enter her in one smooth stroke.

“Gar-!” Shepard’s eyes fluttered closed, her body stretching taut under him. She linked her hands just under his fringe and drew his head down until their foreheads touched. Her eyes opened at the contact, holding his gaze. His breath broke against her face and neck.

“More, _please,_ ” she half-sobbed, and squeezed her legs around him. “Please...” Her hands moved over his neck in desperate stutters.

Impossible to refuse her. Garrus started to thrust, a long roll of his hips against hers that left him buried to the hilt before he withdrew slowly. Shepard dug her fingers into his neck with a sharp gasp.

“Yes,” she hissed, arching her back. The tight muscles of her cunt clenched around him, urging him to hurry, but Garrus understood what she needed. Not speed, not even pleasure -- but grounding. A reminder she was here. That she came back.

She mewled and broke their gazes to set her teeth to his neck. He laughed weakly. Everyone thought _turians_ were biters.

“More,” she gasped into the corner of his mouth. “Please, make me feel you, all of you.”

He cupped her face with his hand, never changing his rhythm, and kissed her as best he could. His mouth felt stiff and clumsy against hers, but she wriggled and clutched at him when he darted his tongue between her lips, hitching his name in between moans.

“Please, come on,” she begged. “I’m so close, _please._ ”

Garrus slipped his hand between their bodies. Shepard went still, eyes wide, and a fine tremble started in her thighs.

“Yes, I -- Garrus!”  She cried out when his finger found her clitoris. His touch was light, only a beginning, but she arched into him, her cunt clenching around him helplessly.

Shepard never looked more alive than she did then, mouth open like she was snatching a breath to scream, eyes never leaving his as she rode out the sensation. Moments later, a handful of thrusts, and he came, his cock still squeezed by the last ripples in her cunt.

Shepard shook in his arms, eyes rimmed red. Her hands cradled his face, something wild and unfamiliar in her expression.

“Thank you,” she said in a ragged voice. “You just understand. You just --” She closed her eyes. “God, Garrus.” She pressed her forehead to his and he closed his eyes, sighing as the afterglow faded from his body.

They clung to each other in silence, the urgency gone.

“Will it always be like this?” he asked. “Needing, wanting each other like this?”

She rubbed her cheek on his. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “But I’m fine if it is.”

***

Later -- long enough to lose track of time -- Garrus groaned. “I have to get up,” he murmured into Shepard’s hair. She sighed and unwound her legs from his. His clothes lay in a pile at the foot of their bed, where he dropped them, but his armor was sealed away in its case. He turned to thank Shepard, but her face was hidden behind her hair as she pulled her underwear over her hips. She didn’t see.

He dressed without talking, enjoying the warm silence between them. His worry seemed very far away, and very small, too.

“Are you ready?” asked Shepard. “It’s your big moment.” She watched him from their bed.

“The moment belongs to everyone.” Garrus fastened the last clasp of his casual clothes and looked at Shepard in his mirror. “You too, even if only I know it.”

“Strange how they’ve just accepted you knowing things. No one’s ever commented, and they’re not stupid.” Shepard tilted her head and smiled. “They want to believe the legend of Archangel too.”

“Legend?” Garrus coughed, embarrassed. “I’m no legend.”

He waited for Shepard to make a joke, but she kept her elliptical smile in place and didn’t reply.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”

Shepard’s smile slipped away as she caught the rough edge of his subvocals. “You really don’t want it to end, do you?”

He shrugged, any melancholy fading beneath the bright pleasure he took in Shepard understanding the nuances of his voice. “It’s like you said, Shepard. I don’t know who I am without a gun in my hand.”

“You’ll figure it out,” she said. “But that’s not all of it. You’ll miss them.”

 _Except for Weaver_ , he tried to joke, but the words got lost somewhere between his head and his mouth. For all the distance -- necessary distance -- between himself and the squad, he _knew_ them.

He knew no one liked Erash’s cooking, but no one would ever say so. He knew Weaver never threw away the Blasto action figures that Sensat and Sidonis bought for her, even though she claimed she had. Everyone knew Vortash was in love with the sisters, but Garrus was the only one who knew which of the sisters loved him back. They had no secrets from him. It felt like a cheat to keep one from them, even if that secret was Shepard.

“Of course I’ll miss them,” he said. He tugged on his gloves. “I’ve led them for two years, Shepard. Even if we stay in touch after this, it’s not going to be the same. Butler will have his family, and the rest -- they won’t be the squad anymore.”

“Name one of them who wouldn’t drop everything if you asked for their help,” said Shepard. “You did more than lead them. You gave them something to fight for, a chance to get justice, but you gave them a family. They won’t forget that, or you.”

A burst of laughter from the common room saved him from having to reply. _If this is the end,_ he thought, _then we’ll make an ending no one will forget. Not the mercs, not us._

“Come on, Garrus,” said Shepard. “Time to get started.” She followed a step behind as he went down the stairs. The squad went quiet when they saw him, faces lit with tentative excitement.

“We’re ready,” said Monteague.

***

Garrus took his seat.

“It all boils down to math,” he said. “There’s twelve of us, and hundreds of them. We need a way to wear them down, so we’re going to use their numbers against them.”

The squad waited.

“They’re all running scared -- Blue Suns, Eclipse, Blood Pack. We’ve personalized it for each of them, and no mistake, they’re gunning for us. But what they won’t expect is a squad that fights two wars at the same time.”

Melanis chewed her thumbnail, but none of the others moved.

“Starting tomorrow, three patrols will go out. Each patrol has one job: find a merc, kill them.”

“That’s it?” said Sensat. Erash elbowed him, hissing.

Garrus grinned. “The next day, they find two, and kill them. The day after, three,” Garrus leaned back. “I’m talking clean kills. Precision assassinations. I don’t even want them to see us.”

“Huh,” said Sidonis. “And then four, and five. At the end of the week, eighty-two are dead.”

“Eighty-four,” said Ripper.

Sidonis balanced his foot on the opposite knee. “Whatever. That takes out a big chunk of the mercs, but guerrilla kills’ll take too long.”

“That’s part one,” said Garrus. “We have to herd them where we want them first.”

“Ooh, more psychological fuckery,” said Weaver. “It worked pretty well with Tarak. Blue Suns were never gonna leave, but they’re so freaked they haven’t been able to mount any major operations.”

“Exactly. After one week of that, we bring in the second group.” Garrus let his mandibles flare wide in a hungry, vulpine grin. “The heavies.”

Loyalty was a hit-or-miss concept with the big merc groups, especially in the lower levels, but a common fear always acted as a great equalizer. Once the mercs realized they presented easy targets in small numbers, they’d band together in groups.

“This is where you get creative.” Garrus pointed at Erash and Weaver. “I don’t care about subtlety, I want whatever you’ve got that will rack up the body count, fast.”

“We’re the shock squad, in other words,” said Erash.

“Hell yes.” Weaver punched his shoulder. Erash grinned through a wince.

“Wherever they are, we hit them. Numbers won’t keep them safe, and they already know we can find them if they try to hide.” The memory of Tarak cowering in bed threatened to make him laugh, but Garrus resisted. “We’ve disrupted their shipments, freed their slaves, wrecked their ships. We’ve never taken the fight to them before. As long as we keep hitting them on two fronts, they won’t get back up when we knock them down.”

“What about the smaller groups? The Talons, and the freelancers? That’s another hundred mercs on the station.” Melanis bit through her thumbnail with a crack.

“Leftovers,” said Vortash.

“Not leftovers,” Garrus corrected. “If the opportunity strikes, take them down too. Our focus has to be on the main groups. They’re the ones who can call in major reinforcements.”

“I think I’ve got something that can help with that,” said Weaver. “Even when the mercs change comm channels, they still use the same shorthand. It’s specific to each group. As long as my hacks stay active, I can track key phrases. If they call for help, we’ll have enough warning to make docking here a really bad idea.”

“Then stay on the hacks. Sensat, Grundan, Ripper, you’re on the Shock Squad with Erash and Weaver. You’re looking at high-risk infiltrations, so I need you ready to move fast and light. No heavy weapons. Stick to pistols and SMGs.”

“We’ve got some surprises in the latest combat drones,” said Erash. He leaned forward,his hands clasped in front of his face, eyes focused on the ceiling. “Shield blockers, jamming tech --”

“Good. Get them tested and installed.” Garrus shifted. He wished he could see Shepard, but but he felt her presence at his back. For now, it was enough. “Now, the Kill Squads.

“Mierin, Melanis, you’re on Blood Pack. Reave the bastards and pick them off while they’re down.”

“Singularity won’t hurt either,” said Mierin. She gave her sister a tight, fierce smile.

“Vortash, Sidonis, you’ve got Eclipse. Keep the vanguards at range -- same as always. Get the combat drones from Erash, you’re going to need them.

“Monteague, you’re with me. We’ll take the Blue Suns.”

“Fuckin’ A” said Monteague. “I was so sad I missed out on Tarak in his unmentionables.”

The squad started shouting, a chorus of insults all aimed at Tarak. Garrus laughed, surprised by a sudden, sharp burst of affection.

“All right, all right, enough,” he said, still laughing. “Save it for when he’s dead. He’ll be easier to laugh at then.”

As the squad quieted, Sidonis turned to Garrus. A whiff of the sour smell of worry made its way into the air. Garrus knew what Sidonis was going to ask before the other turian’s mouth opened.

“What about Butler?”

“For now, we work without him.” Garrus let himself grin. “But when he’s back, I think he’ll fit right in on the Shock Squad.”

***

Sensat flopped back against the couch cushions, boneless with exhaustion. “Damn,” he muttered.

Garrus stretched. His neck ached from bending over the table for the past four hours, but his head felt scooped clean and peaceful. “All right,” he said. “We’re good.” The squad dropped their stiff postures and fell against each other, yawning and reaching for water bottles or coffee mugs gone cold.

Weaver shut down the three-dimensional map of Omega’s interior. “I’ll upload this to your ‘tools,” she said. “The first two rounds of Shock Squad sites are marked, along with the new patrol routes.”

“So don’t get careless and forget which sectors are no-go zones,” said Garrus. He looked around the room. “Questions?”

The squad shook their heads. The strain of planning showed on everyone’s faces. Putting muscle and skin on the skeleton of Garrus’ plan had worn them out.

“Get some sleep. We start early. Mierin, you have first watch.”

As the squad filed away, arguing over who had first right to the showers, Garrus slouched in his chair and glanced to his left. Shepard smiled at him from the stairs, the slightest curve of her lips.

 _Can’t wait to see what she thinks_. It was a challenge not to grin back.

“Boss?” Sidonis hadn’t moved from his seat on the couch. His tunic lay bunched over his cowl and carapace, and he smelled nervous.

“Sidonis?” Garrus rubbed his neck. 

“Got a question. Not about the plan. You have a minute?”

“Sure.” Garrus shifted to rest his cowl against the back of his chair and waited while Sidonis gathered himself.

“You’ve got a plan for what happens after Omega, right?”

That was not the question Garrus expected. A rill of unease went through him, and he told himself to tread lightly.

“Not much of one,” he said honestly. “I’ll worry about that when Omega’s clean and we’re all safe.”

Sidonis bobbed his head in a nervous nod. “It’s just -- I was thinking. I don’t have anywhere to go, really, and I was wondering -- if you need help, whatever you’re going to do, I’m there.”

Garrus heard Shepard’s satisfied laugh. He focused on Sidonis’ pebble-green eyes.

“You’re asking to keep working with me?”

Sidonis gave him the nervous nod again. “Yeah. I am. I mean, you do good work. I want to keep helping, you know?”

“Told you,” said Shepard, the first time she’d spoken since they left their room. “A legend already.” Her voice was serious, no hint of teasing now.

Garrus considered. He’d thought the other turian wanted what the rest of the squad wanted: a fresh start, free from grief and hopeless fury. To find out that Sidonis wanted to keep going -- well, that was a surprise.

Of all the squad, Sidonis was the only one who’d been clear about why he wanted to fight the mercs on Omega. The Eclipse killed Kavalix, and Sidonis hadn’t been there to save him.

Anger could be a powerful motivator, but Garrus had seen Sidonis when he faced Eclipse. Grief fueled him, not anger, and it made him controlled, precise. For all his jokes, Sidonis had learned how to make his emotions work for him, as armor.

“To be honest,” said Garrus carefully, “I haven’t decided what I want to do next.”

Sidonis leaned forward, the sharp citrus tang of anticipation surrounding him. How humans got by without pheromones was a question he would never answer. By the way Sidonis’ posture relaxed slightly in disappointment, he knew Sidonis had smelled the faint, musty scent of refusal, and he softened what he was going to say.

“Our focus needs to be on following the plan through to the end. Once the mercs realize this is more than just disrupting them, they won’t stop until we’re just smears on the wall. When that’s done -- then we’ll talk, Sidonis.”

Sidonis nodded. He didn’t like the answer, but he recognized the refusal, and the inferred order to _wait._ No one but a turian would resist the urge to argue.

“Anything else, Sidonis? There’s a lot of work to be done.”

“Nothing, boss.” Sidonis’ disappointment shaded his subvocals briefly, then he straightened, focus returning to his gaze. “Thanks for hearing me out.”

“I mean it,” said Garrus, surprised by the sudden urge to reassure Sidonis. “We’ll talk.”

“Provided we’re all alive,” laughed Sidonis, his skewed good humor returning. “Thanks.”

He nodded and watched Sidonis walk toward the kitchen. The empty common room settled into dry silence around him.

“That was well-handled,” said Shepard. Her hand fell on his shoulder, and he reached up to stroke her fingers, a single fugitive touch. “Am I missing something with him? Is he --?”

Garrus glanced at the kitchen. Sidonis’ back was to him. He pitched his voice low, barely a thrum in the air.

“He’s not,” said Garrus. “It’s a turian thing.” He imagined Shepard’s expression: the twist of her mouth, the arched eyebrows, and hid a smile. She would make him explain later, not resting until she peeled back every layer of meaning, squeezed him for every nuance.

Making her wait was all part of the game. It frustrated her to not have all the information she wanted, as soon as she wanted it, but a frustrated Shepard was an interested one. He took a risk, teasing her out like this, but he was tired, and her bright regard -- her _interest_ \-- made the exhaustion fall away.

She wove her fingers through his. “Watch the mercs, Garrus. Fear makes people stupid, but it makes them creative, too. And you're about to terrify them.”

“I know,” he murmured. Garm’s voice echoed in his head.

_I’m gonna find your little toadies, Archangel, and when I do, I’ll feed you their eyes._

His stomach lurched. “Once the Kill Squads go out tomorrow, we can’t stop until every merc is dead.”

Neither of them said _Or until we are_ , but it echoed between them.

 


End file.
